


let me be your ride out of town, let me be the place where you hide (run away with me)

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Iris knows what she wants, Sharing a Bed, be the single parent (sort of)!au you wish to see in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: When Iris agreed to be one of the chaperones on Wally’s eighth grade science trip to the Smithsonian, this really wasn’t what she had in mind. Neither was being in such close quarters with her best friend for a week. (We are the only two parents who agreed to attend the school trip (bonus: “so i guess we share this hotel room?”)





	

* * *

  _Let me be your ride out of town, let me be the place where you hide,_

_we can make our lives on the go, run away with me_

* * *

 

When Iris agreed to be one of the chaperones on Wally’s eighth grade science trip to the Smithsonian, this _really_ wasn’t what she had in mind.

Truthfully, she’d agreed because Joe wouldn’t have been able to make it, what with work, and she knew it would quietly kill her father not to be there for Wally, especially so soon after their mother’s passing. And Iris did want to stick close to her little brother, in this new motherless adjustment they both had to make. So she’d impulsively ( _foolishly_ ) agreed to go along, keep an eye on her brother and about a hundred other eighth graders.

Shows what she knew.

Honestly, it could’ve been worse. she was worried that she’d be the only person her age amongst a sea of preteens and their hassled adult caretakers, but no, there’s Caitlin Snow and Cisco Ramon, both of whom are teachers no older than Iris herself, and she even knows them through Wally’s after-school program. Caitlin could wield a cool, unimpressed stare like a scalpel and not a single boy dared sass her more than once. Cisco, on the other hand (all the kids called him “Mr. Cisco” or even just by his first name) provided the lightness and playfulness, making jokes and occasionally yelling things like, “TURN DOWN FOR WHAT” about science and engineering.

And then there was Barry Allen.

They’d been best friends for as long as Iris could remember; their parents were friends too. She’d grown up with him through kindergarten, grade school, middle school, high school, to go off to separate colleges, but holidays and summers always hung out together. He’d been the one to good-naturedly play soccer or football or basketball with Wally; though even in fifth grade, Wally could cream him at anything athletic (so could Iris, for that matter). In turn, Barry taught Wally about engineering and science, played chauffeur when Iris wasn’t around, played video games with Wally during the long nights of Francine’s illness, kept both Wally and Iris company during the hardest parts, before and after. He was Jesse Quick’s older cousin, and Jesse Quick had been Wally’s not-so-secret crush since…fourth grade? Or maybe first, Iris couldn’t recall a time when her little brother _wasn’t_ blushing and moony-eyed (not that he’d admit it, the little twerp) over Jesse. Barry had come along because he and Jesse were apparently as close as two cousins with such a wide age gap could be.

“Her mom and dad just got divorced,” Barry explained quietly to Iris, on the long bus ride, when it was getting late and all the kids were too tired to be rowdy and half-asleep. “And she’s–well, she saw it coming I guess, but it’s a hard thing to have to deal with, you know? And I wanted to stick close to her, after.  Uncle Harry’s not always the most cuddly guy to be around. I mean, he would die for Jesse in a heartbeat, he’s just–”

“Not good at being there?” Iris asked and Barry had smiled, rueful and a little weary.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Exactly. And Jesse’s a great kid, you know? Really, really smart. Always acts much more mature than her age. But she shouldn’t have to act mature _all the time,_ right? She should have the chance to be a kid while she can.”  

“I think Wally has the opposite problem,” said Iris wryly. “But we’ve just lost our mom too.”

“Maybe they’ll balance each other out,” Barry suggested gently. “And hey, you know what? You’re more than welcome to come by and hang out with my mom whenever you want, you and Wally. Dad’s always saying he wants you guys over more.”

Iris found herself blinking back tears, at the simple generosity of the offer, matter of factly made. “I–sure. We’d like that, Wally and me.”

Barry smiled, green eyes crinkled at the corners, long lashes dusted with gold in the overhead lights in the bus. “No problem.”

 _Oh,_ Iris thought. _Oh boy._  

* * *

 

“Okay,” Caitlin said at the end of the day, once they had safely made it to the hotel and the kids were settled in, “there seems to have been some kind of mix-up with the rooms.”

Iris and Barry were both in the hotel recreation room, Iris flipping through various paperbacks that had been left by former guests and Barry texting his parents. “With whose rooms?” Iris asked immediately.

“Yours and Barry’s,” Caitlin said with a wince. “Apparently, there was a miscommunication of some kind with the front desk and they put the two of you…” she trailed off, seeing the slowly dawning alarm on both their faces. “In the same room,” she finished, clearly bracing herself for their reaction. “And the rest of the hotel is completely booked, so we can’t rent another room and it’s against the school policy that the adult chaperones share a room with the kids.”

“So…” Barry said slowly, letting his phone slide out of his hands, “we’re stuck sharing a room.”

Caitlin scrunched her face up in sympathy, clearly not finished. “A room with…only one bed, apparently. For the rest of the trip.”

Iris manifestly _did not_ look at Barry, knowing damn well she was blushing and he would be too. “It’s–it’s fine,” she said hastily, just as Barry put in, “I’m sure we’ll be fine–” they stopped in mid-sentence, looking at each other somewhat warily. “It’s not like it’s the first time,” Barry said and turned _bright red,_ as Caitlin cleared her throat and Iris fought down the urge to sink through the floor. “I mean--since we were kids,” Barry amended hastily. “We used to--I mean, sometimes, we would--”

“Barry,” said Iris and he shut his mouth with a snap, his face still burning red as heat, _god,_ he was such a dork.

“Are the two of you sure?” Caitlin asked, moving on as gracefully as anyone could from _that_ mortifying scene. “Cisco is sharing a room with another parent, I’m sure Barry could…” she trailed off again, putting her head to one side, studying him. “Actually, no, I take it back, I don’t think he could.”

“Whatever, it’s fine,” said Iris quickly, her cheeks still flushed. “It’s fine, we’re adults, we can handle it.”

“Maybe don’t mention this in the presence of the kids though,” Barry said quietly. “Just so they don’t get any ideas.”  

“Oh god no,” Iris said with utter sincerity, just as Caitlin added with equal emphasis, “ _Definitely_ not.”

* * *

 

“You know, if you give me enough pillows, I’d be pretty happy on the floor,” Barry said, as they studied their new quarters…for the week, evidently.

“We’ve got a seven o’clock alarm and an almost eight hour day of walking tomorrow,” Iris said firmly, dropping her bags at the foot of the bed. “We’ll put a pillow wall down the middle or something.”

Barry sighed and nodded, conceding. “Um...not to be weird or anything, but...do you still sleep on the right side of the bed?”

“Still do,” Iris said. “And you’re on the left?”

“Yup,” he assured her, trying to smile, not look vastly uncomfortable. “It’ll be fine.”

“You don’t snore or anything like that, do you?” she asked, toeing off her sneakers.

“Not that I know of,” Barry said, also sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes. “You’ll have to tell me.”

A beat of silence, as they both tried not to look at each other, not at the bed, with it’s innocuous hotel standard coverlet, and the prospect slowly looming before them.

Iris took a deep breath, forcing her heart rate to climb down. They were both adults, they could handle this. He was her best friend, she trusted him, and well--this wouldn’t be weird. She wouldn’t _let_ it be weird. “You can use the shower first if you want,” she said, calmly, matter of factly, as if the mental image of Barry wet and with water sliding down his skin wasn’t enough to make her completely short circuit. That wasn’t a good sign. “I need to call my dad, let him know we got here safely.”  

“Sure thing,” Barry said quickly, and the bathroom was shut in the next two seconds. Iris glared at it, unreasonably irritated. Well, _fine_ then.

She called Joe, assured him she and Wally had safely made it, they were okay, but had an early day the next morning, so they were headed in early. “Barry Allen’s on that trip with you too, isn’t he?” her dad asked, as Iris tried very hard not to look guiltily in the direction of the bathroom door. “You tell him I said hello.”

 _Oh sure thing dad, just tell my best friend who I feel absurdly attracted to and am inadvertently_ sharing a room with _for a_ week _you say hello.  No problem._

“I will dad,” Iris said, hearing the water shut off behind the door. “I’m going to head to bed in a bit. I’ll have Wally call you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too baby girl,” said Joe and they hung up. Iris scrubbed a hand across her face, already tired from the prospect of keeping more than one secret from multiple people. She genuinely didn’t like lying to her father _or_ brother, but honestly, what alternative was there? It was just too much to explain in one time.

She heard the bathroom door very slowly creak open behind her and resisted the urge to put a hand over her eyes. “Uh, Iris?” Barry said warily, warm air hitting her back. “I don’t--that is, um, I seem not to have brought in any clothes with me.”

Of course. Just pile _more_ awkward in on this situation. “I promise not to look,” she said, determinedly _not looking_. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. Just come out and get your stuff.”

Shuffling, wet feet against the cheap carpeting, and alright _fine,_ she was only human, damn it, _one_ quick glance wasn’t going to hurt anything.

Under the pretense of throwing her bag on the bed and riffling through it for her own nightclothes, Iris stole a glance through her lashes in Barry’s direction and-- _oh._  

Pale skin, freckles all across his shoulders and chest, wet and gleaming from the shower, _shit,_ she didn’t think through at all, did she. Not even sort of. _When did Barry get muscles?_  Iris forced herself to look at the contents of her bag instead, to think about what pajamas she should wear, what shoes she should get out for tomorrow, the fact that Barry Allen was not five feet away from her in nothing but a flimsy hotel towel and soaking wet. Nope, that wasn’t productive at all. The bathroom shut quietly behind her.   

“This is going to be a long week,” Iris muttered into the empty air.

* * *

 

Barry gave off heat like a _furnace,_ Iris was honestly worried he was running a fever just sleeping next to him. He didn’t snore after all, but he did have a tendency to sprawl--she had to nudge him back to his side of the bed as carefully as she could without waking him up. It had been too long of a day not to be tired and _want_ to go to sleep and Iris forced herself to close her eyes and determinedly counted sheep, not the fact Barry was sleeping (was he?) not a foot away from her.

She woke up the next morning with his arm sprawled over her, his breathing deep and even.

It wasn’t a good to turn over, to look at him in the half dark, half light of the early morning. It wasn’t a good idea, but she did it anyways.

He slept with a furrowed brow and parted lips, and Iris had to fight down the urge to reach out and brush his eyelashes with the very tips of her fingers, they were so _long,_ how was this fair. It struck her then that Barry Allen had been a part of her life like  he was sunlight, or the sky, and now sleeping besides him and waking up next to him felt as inevitable and as natural as the sun rising and setting.

She rolled back over again, carefully as so not to disturb him, and looked at the clock. 6:45 am. Only fifteen minutes to pretend they did this all the time, that they would go on doing it, and that it was what they both wanted. She shut her eyes and focused on the sound of his breathing, her heartbeat, the heat pouring off his arm over her.

She sensed more than heard the change of Barry’s breathing, how it deepened and then his long, waking sigh. Goosebumps broke out on her skin.

“Iris?” his morning voice rasped and Iris felt the rumble of it in her skin, in her heart. Barry sounded dazed and warm, not quite awake, still living half in dreams. “You up?”

“I’m up,” Iris said, trying to sound like she too was just waking. Barry’s arm left her and she felt the absence like cold. She rolled over again, to see Barry half sitting up, dazedly scratching his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick up even _more_ impossible angles. _Nothing should ever be that cute_ , Iris thought with a pang.  

He seemed to wake up fully looking at her, something flickering in his gaze, something that looked like longing and heat and confusion, Barry Allen had a face like a glass pane since childhood; you could see everything through it.

“I didn’t--I didn’t keep you up, did I?” he asked uncertainly and Iris tried very hard not to think about all the _other_ things that had been--up. More than once.

“Not at all,” she said, easing herself into an upright position. “You didn’t snore at all.”

“Oh,” Barry said softly, “good.”

They looked at each other again, the dim light of early morning making the whole scene slightly unreal and dreamlike. Any closer and they’d be touching. Any closer and she could have her arms around his neck, she could be in his lap, his mouth on hers--

The hotel phone began to ring, sharp and shrill, making them both jump. Barry flailed, fell of the edge of the bed with a _thud_ that made the whole room rattle slightly, Iris lunged for the phone across the bed, since it was on the opposite of where she had been sleeping, _Barry’s side_ of the bed; the pillow and sheets still felt warm from him. “Hello?” she asked, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary, even as Barry let out a strangled breath from below.

“Hello, this is your 7 am wake up call--” the automated voice said on the other line and Iris scrubbed her hand across her face. “Yes thank you,” she told it tiredly and hung up.

She looked down at Barry who was--staring at the ceiling?

It abruptly occurred to Iris that she was lying on her stomach and as a result, the top of her sleep camisole was--a _lot_ lower than was decent. She sat up straight, trying to adjust it as nonchalantly as possible. “I’m just going to shower,” she said, knowing hot water would go a long way to adjusting her rattled frame of mind. “I’ll be right out, okay?”

“Take your time,” Barry said, still lying on the floor, still slightly strangled.

All in all, not one of Iris’s better mornings.     

* * *

 

Coffee and breakfast helped settle things, and Barry seemed to be acting as normally as he usually did. Iris took her cues from him, and focused on making sure none of the students started a food fight with the hotel breakfast.

Washington D.C. was stately and majestic, history rising from its sidewalks and pavements. Cisco and Barry kept singing, “ _Look around, look around, look how lucky we are to be alive right now!”_ even as Caitlin would grumble, “They were singing that about _New York City,”_ but she’d start humming the tune when they weren’t listening. Iris herded her brother and his group from one location to the other, making sure no one got lost or wandered off. At some point (she suspected meddling from either Wally or Cisco), hers and Barry’s group melded into one, and that put Iris and Barry in charge of about fifty teenagers.

Honestly, it should’ve been an unqualified disaster, but…

Barry had an interesting knack of gaining the kids’ trust and affection, apparently just by the force of his personality alone, and Iris glimpsed more than one of Wally’s classmates (boy and girl alike) sighing over him. As for Iris, she simply treated them like she treated Wally, affectionate, amused and occasionally unyielding. It seemed to work out.

“Solid co-leadership going on here,” Cisco said during their lunch break. “Ya’ll rock this joint leading thing.”

Barry and Iris glanced at each other, smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths. “Just needed the right partner, I guess,” said Barry lightly, and Iris smiled back at him, pleased and glowing.

From across the room, Wally and Jesse exchanged knowing looks and eye-rolls. “ _So_ married,” Jesse muttered and Wally snorted, shaking his head.

The mornings and nights were becoming the best and worst parts of Iris’s days. The days were filled with the distractions of the trip, taking care of the kids, presenting a united front with Barry against various teenage machinations for shenanigans. In the evenings, in their room (it struck Iris as weirdly intimate to call it that), Barry would set up his laptop and they’d watch something on Netflix, fighting with the hotel’s crappy wifi. They’d talk and laugh or call their families, and it felt like it always did between them--comfortable, easy, _natural._

Then it would be time to go to bed and Iris would wake  up more and more often with Barry’s face buried in the back of her neck, his arms around her, or her leg thrown over his hip, him cocooning her. Or with the sheets half kicked off because Barry was so warm. And in the mornings she’d wake up to Barry’s sleeping face and want to see it every day for the rest of her life.

It was, in short, the most exquisite torture devised by the universe at large and Iris didn’t know whether to be grateful for the fact it happened at all or to resent the hell out of it.

On the Friday before it was time to go home, Iris finally managed to catch a few minutes talk with Wally, to check in with him, when he asked her point blank, “Are you and Barry sharing a room?”

Iris kept her face smooth, placid. “Why do you ask?”

Her little brother fixed her with a _c’mon sis_ look. “You two always appear at breakfast at the same time. You go to sleep at the same time. And come on Iris, I’m fourteen, not _stupid._ Jesse figured it out, actually. Ya’ll ain’t subtle.”

Iris blew out her breath, eyed her younger brother, wondered if she could bribe him or just threaten him with violence. “The hotel had a mix-up with the rooms, apparently.”

Wally eyed her right back. “So are the two of you--”

“What we _are_ is none of your business,” Iris informed him sternly. “And you better be keeping this to _yourself,_ Wallace Joseph West, or else--”

“I don’t know,” Wally drawled, an evil look in his eyes. “Shouldn’t _dad_ know about-- _ow, motherhugger, Iris!”_

Iris drove her nails into the skin behind his ear just a little harder to prove her point. “Dad’s not going to _know_ about this because _you’re_ not going to tell him. _I’ll_ tell him, _if_ he asks, but if he doesn’t, _you’re_ not going to bring it up, _alright?_ ”  

“ _Alright_ ,” Wally bit out and Iris released his ear. The West siblings glowered at each other for a moment.

“I’m sorry I yanked your ear,” said Iris finally. “But dad’s got enough to worry about without this too, Wally.”

“I know,” he half mumbled. “But this might actually make him _happy,_ you know.”

* * *

 

Iris got ready for bed slowly, washing her face, brushing her teeth, coming out the tangles in her hair. She could hear Barry talking softly with his mom on the phone in the outer room and her throat felt tight at the reminder that she couldn’t do that anymore. She’d never do it again.

She was finished and stepping out of the bathroom when Barry said, “Okay, I’ll see you guys tomorrow, probably by five. Hopefully, if the traffic is good. Yeah, I’ll tell Iris you say hi. Okay. I love you too, mom. Good night.”

He hung up and sighed, dragging his hands through his hair. It had been a long week and even Barry’s boundless good humor wasn’t entirely intact. He looked up to see Iris and instantly frowned. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged slightly, not wanting to explain but her heart ached too much to _not_ talk about it. “It’s just--” she swallowed, trying to keep her voice level. “My mom, I can’t--I can’t call her like that. Not anymore.”

Barry’s whole face softened and without a second of hesitation, he held out his arm to her. “Come here.”

Iris went over to sit on the edge of the bed next to him, letting him pull her close, arm around her shoulders, his lips against her hairline. “It’s okay,” he said against her skin softly. “Miss her all you want. It’s okay.”

Iris pressed her face into his shoulder, her breath escaping raggedly. Barry just let her cling to him, rubbing her back in slow circles, making soft soothing noises. He scooted them both back so his back rested against the headboard, Iris soft and tired against his side. She let her cheek rest against his shirt, a few stray tears escaping, warm wetness on her cheeks. “Barry--”

He hugged her a little tighter. “We don’t have to talk.”

“I want to,” she insisted and raised her head to look him in the eye. He was watching her, ever patient, but also with the look someone bracing himself for the worse, for something to come to an end. She swallowed hard. “I want--I want stay like this. Okay? For the rest of the night. For _every_ night.”

Barry stared at her, eyes going wide and wider still, suddenly not even breathing. “Iris you don’t--are you sure, Iris, because--” he swallowed himself, Adam’s apple bobbing, “Because I--I’ve been pretty much wanting this for my entire _life_.”

Iris clutched at the fabric of his shirt, the only solid thing in the world that kept her steady. “And you’re mentioning this just _now_?”

He looked down at her helplessly. “When _would’ve_ been a good time to tell my best friend that I’ve been in love with her for our entire lives?”

A strangled laugh escaped Iris, equal parts wonder and disbelief. “Barry Allen, you _idiot.”_

“I’m sure you’re right, but why?” he protested, letting her press closer to him, half pulling her on his lap, Iris clutching his shoulders. “What do you think I’ve been _doing_ all this time, anyways?”

“Being a good older cousin?” Iris suggested, laughter and tears running perilously close together.

“Well, I _try_ ,” said Barry seriously. “But Iris, you could decide to go to the moon and I’d get on the next rocket after you.”

“Why would I want to--” Iris started to say and then gave up. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

Barry squeezed her hips gently. “You just lost your mom. You’re _allowed_ to put yourself and your family first, okay? I can wait. I’ve _been_ waiting for this long, it’s not going to kill me.”

“I don’t _want_ to wait,” said Iris fiercely. “I want you _now._ ”

Barry made a strangled sound deep in his throat, hands tightening on her hips. “Okay, you gotta be careful with that, because seriously, I wasn’t kidding about waiting my whole life--”

Iris kissed him on the corner of his mouth, his words trailing off like a falling star. “I’m not ready for this _yet,_ ” she told him, heart pounding like a snare drum. “But--I _do_ want it, Bear. Like you wouldn’t believe. Or maybe--” she eyed him wryly. “Maybe you would.”

“I might have some idea,” Barry croaked out and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Iris, take all the time you need, okay? I’ll be here.”

They must’ve fallen asleep like that, because they woke up the next morning to Cisco knocking on their door and calling out, “Time to head out, kids!” as they slowly untangled themselves from each other, cricks in their necks and stiff backs. Iris didn’t care. She put her head on his shoulder on the long flight and then bus ride back to Central City, quiet and basking in Barry’s presence, their fingers discretely entwined. If anyone noticed, they had enough sense not to say anything.  Wally and Jesse both seemed to be determined to prove that if _they_ didn’t see anything, _no one else_ saw anything either. Iris pressed a smile into Barry’s shoulder, eager for her own bed and room but not wanting to leave Barry just yet.

They got back to Central City in the flaming sunset of a late autumn evening, parents and cars waiting to get their kids home. Joe greeted Wally and Iris with a firm hug and a kiss on their foreheads, holding on to them a little tighter, a little longer. Iris rested against her father, eyes closing in homecoming. She caught sight of Barry, pulling his bags out of the bus’s luggage carrier and asked Joe, “Can we give Barry a ride home, dad?”

Joe looked at Barry, looked at Iris and said slowly, “I don’t see why not.”

Iris walked Barry up the steps to his house after they dropped him off, lingering, wishing to wring out the last few moments with him after their long week like water into dry soil. “Is it bad,” she said, as they walked up the porch steps, “that while you’re my best friend, I kinda don’t want to see your face for like a week? Or at least two days.”

Barry laughed, the sound purely amused. “You know what? I was thinking the same thing.” They smiled at each other, travel weary but still clinging to the memory of the week. “Get some rest, okay?” Barry said softly. “I’ll see you in--two days. Or a week. Depends on how good my willpower is.”

Iris felt her laughter bubble up and reckless of her brother and father watching, reached out and pulled his face down, pressed a quick kiss high on his cheekbone. “Three days. At Jitters.”

“It’s a date,” Barry said, wonder in his eyes at being _allowed_ to call it that.

Iris climbed into the front seat of the car, her smile uncontainable, to meet the startled, if not somewhat pleased gazes of Joe and Wally. “The two of you--” Joe started to say, but Iris shook her head.

“It’s early days dad,” she said quietly, firmly. “We’re--” she paused, not sure how to explain it but Joe interrupted her gently, “If he makes you happy right now baby, that’s all I need to know.”

Iris let her head rest against the seat, closed her eyes, held the memories of the past week to her heart. “He does, daddy.”

“ _Real_ happy,” Wally muttered from the back seat and Iris did open her eyes to turn around and glare at him. Wally looked unrepentantly back at her, before feigning sleep against the window.

Iris rolled her eyes to herself and rested again. Three days. It felt like holding lightning cupped in her hands, glimmering bright.             

**Author's Note:**

> I??? Would like to apologize for the sheer _length_ of this without even a proper kiss, the author regrets everything.


End file.
